


sacrifice

by side_stickie_note (lost_stickie_note)



Series: tinysparks [14]
Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Implied/Referenced Character Death, Lemon, M/M, Public Sex, Ritual Sex, Sacrifice, Smut, Yixing's Birthday Week 2020, human!Yixing, lover!Junmyeon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-21
Updated: 2020-10-21
Packaged: 2021-03-09 00:27:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 997
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27075712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lost_stickie_note/pseuds/side_stickie_note
Summary: Yixing ventures into the Wood, searching for something long lost.
Relationships: Kim Junmyeon | Suho/Zhang Yi Xing | Lay
Series: tinysparks [14]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1734781
Comments: 6
Kudos: 38
Collections: Challenge #8 — Tales of the Past





	sacrifice

**Author's Note:**

> A bit messy, but couldn't resist.
> 
> In which Yixing is willing to sacrifice everything to see him again.

“I’m so sorry.” Yixing shakes his head at hearing the rueful voice, mouth parting as the shallow bowl is brought up to his lips, wetting them.

“It’s not your fault. I offered.” He can’t quite see anything through the blindfold, only the shifting shadow of the boy sent to attend to him, at least until sundown when the ritual will start. And it’s true, he had volunteered to be the sacrifice, throwing caution to the wind, clinging on to a thin hope.

To keep their village safe, a willing sacrifice must be offered each year, sent deep into the forest to appease the spirit of the Wood—the few years without one, their families had been plagued by death, many mothers succumbing in childbirth, children falling deathly ill during the winter, autumn bringing not enough food for the harvest, hunger rampant.

It is always a difficult time, the weeks leading up to the summer solstice, the period in which the sacrifice is chosen, the tense anticipation of whether someone will come forward before the fortnight is up and a Communal needs to be held.

But this year, Yixing had come forward, the third day in, and their village breathed a sigh of relief.

Yixing shifts uncomfortably on the hard granite slab, his knees starting to ache being against the hard stone after being in the same position for quite some time, his legs tucked neatly underneath him, head bowed. He would never have imagined becoming the sacrifice, not even a few years back, but the allure had become all too strong, his desire mounting the past few months.

He sighs, the feel of the cloth binding around his wrists starting to chafe, his shoulders starting to ache from the strain of being pulled taut behind his back, his knuckles rubbing against his lower back. A precaution. It had only happened once, a sacrifice making the decision to try and kill the spirit of the Wood themselves, and the village had paid dearly for it, their year’s harvest almost entirely wiped out by pestilence, their winter months bleak.

Yixing hadn’t seen it with his own eyes, but there were rumors that what had been left of the man had been turned inside out. Since then, each of their sacrifices have been bound at the hands and blindfolded, kneeling in an act of submission. The gust of wind makes him shiver, the goosebumps breaking out across his skin, an odd contrast to the humid and warm night, the feeling of being cold while a sheen of sweat still coats his skin uncomfortable, and Yixing hums underneath his breath to pass the time.

He had known what to expect but was still surprised at the lengths that were taken, the Elders helping him bathe, carefully soaking him in hot water seeped with a mixture of chamomile, lavender, and rosemary. The expanse of ceremonial rites afterwards, mostly whispered prayers that the year’s sacrifice is deemed sufficient, blessing their village with good fortune for the upcoming year. And for the entirety of the day, Yixing had only thought about one thing.

That the spirit of the Wood would present to the sacrifice what they desire most, tempting them to stay.

There had been one sacrifice that had made it back, returning after a month, wandering into the village one day, but he had refused to speak of it, eyes vacant whenever anyone had probed further.

What Yixing desires most-

Yixing doesn’t notice the footsteps, if there are any, but the hand is warm against his back, sliding over his bare skin, the touch grazing at his waist making him shiver with anticipation.

“Hello?”

There’s no response, just the shifting of shadows from behind the blindfold, and Yixing feels the hand now against his jaw, thumb brushing lightly over his cheek, down to his lips, nail digging slightly into his skin.

“This year’s sacrifice is very lovely.” Yixing squeezes his eyes shut tightly, the moan escaping unbiddenly, the hand in between his legs, the voice achingly familiar. “You came willingly?”

“Yes.” His breath out is cut off by the feel of lips on his own, mouthing over his insistently, the feel of tongue swiping up against his own, hot and heavy, igniting the fire in his belly.

“Good.”

He doesn’t question it, back arching, lurching forward, the thumbs pressing into the small of his back, tracing a path downwards to his ass, the feeling of prying, the hiss escaping as there’s the slippery slide against his hole, the nippiness of the twilight night air making him clench.

“Yixing, bao bei.”

The pet name is murmured lovingly, the lilt in his voice sweet and unmistakable, the tears cloying as the lump in his throat grows, everything all too reminiscent, sharply crying out as Yixing feels the fingers fucking into him, shallowly at first, then deeper, carving into him as if they belong, well-practiced and as if by habit. And Yixing doesn’t know whether he’s allowed to ask for it, but he does anyways, pleading for more, craving the sense of intimacy, the need running through his veins.

_Please._

It scares him, how his body reacts faster than he does, the anticipation of being filled and sated weighing heavily in his bones, the delicious curl of arousal as his body remembers how it feels to be thoroughly fucked, the burning brand of hands wrapped around his waist, the heat of skin against skin, obscenely loud in the quiet of the surrounding wood.

He never thought he’d feel it again.

Yixing comes in short, stuttering gasps, moaning his name as he does, the only one he’s ever known, eyes rolling back in tightened pleasure as the hand tugs at his cock, drawing out his orgasm, milking him dry.

Yixing blinks rapidly as the blindfold is removed, the sky ablaze with the colors of sunset, and he gasps as the face comes into view, peering at him curiously.

Junmyeon.

And Yixing knows there’s no turning back now.


End file.
